The eight-ox crossbow had always been a terrifying killing weapon on the battlefield that struck fear into people’s hearts—long range, great power, and accurate aim. Ever since Yun Ye installed a ratchet system on the eight-ox crossbow, what previously required a team to operate could now be handled by just two people. One person worked the hand wheel to draw the string, while another loaded arrows and aimed. If the previous eight-ox crossbow could shoot three arrows in a quarter-hour, the current eight-ox crossbow could shoot a full twenty arrows in the same time. Moreover, Gongshu Mu had modified the eight-ox crossbow to fire three bolts at once—they could be released simultaneously or chosen for single-shot firing. In Yun Ye’s view, this thing wasn’t much inferior to the firearms of later generations.

Under Yun Ye’s tutelage, Di Renjie had learned the Confucian essence of “a gentleman does not stand beneath a crumbling wall” to the utmost. Once he dove into the iron-plated carriage, he immediately ordered firing. As for what he’d just said about sparing people—you should just pretend you didn’t hear it. Six eight-ox crossbows fired in rotation. Crossbow bolts as thick as a child’s arm flew wildly through the air. The guards strung on the bolts, along with that servant specially used for disguise, were pinned to the ground or trees in the first instant. They stretched out their hands trying to pull out the bolts piercing their bodies—this futile motion continued until the second wave of bolts arrived and stopped.

Di Renjie covered his mouth, emitting waves of dry heaves. That guard whose head had been blown apart by a bolt, with brain matter flying everywhere, was truly too disgusting. But it was just stomach discomfort. In Yun Ye’s lineage, he was the founding senior disciple. As for Xiao Wu and Shishi, no one took them seriously. They just bore the title of female disciples to secure high-status husbands with broad networks in the future. The difference could be seen from the allowances given by the family.

When they were young, allowances were distributed by age—Shishi got the most, Di Renjie the least. Now it was still the same. The issue was that Di Renjie had the right to withdraw silver from the accounting office—as long as it didn’t exceed five hundred strings, his master wouldn’t question it. But Shishi and Xiao Wu didn’t have this privilege. Not only did they not have it, neither did Xiao Ya or the others named after the four directions. In wealthy families, this was a male privilege. In the future, Li Rong and Yun Baobao would have it, but Yun’s daughter would not. Even the proudest Xiao Wu had no objection to this rule. What she could do was desperately squeeze Di Renjie, joining forces with Xiao Ya to rob Di Renjie when allowances were distributed.

Every time Di Renjie received five strings of cash from the smiling steward’s hands, he had already prepared himself to be robbed, only hoping that when they clubbed him this time, they wouldn’t hit his head. No matter what kind of beating he took, Di Renjie would immediately foam at the mouth and fall to the ground. On the ground, there would be some scattered silver and copper coins tossed aside. Only after those two masked bandits left with the money would he leisurely get up from the ground, dust off the dirt on his body, and go about his business.

Although he didn’t care about these things, enduring it year after year would inevitably cause some depression, so he needed to find something to vent. Like now—listening to the wild firing of the eight-ox crossbows and watching that manager perform various high-difficulty evasive maneuvers, Di Renjie was amazed. After such a long time, aside from one grazing wound, this fellow hadn’t suffered any other injuries. Truly remarkable! But this wasn’t a solution. Di Renjie knew the six eight-ox crossbows had brought enough bolts. Under continuous volleys, it wouldn’t be easy for the Four Seas Trading Company’s manager to survive, especially since those shooters were starting to prepare fire bolts.

The ground was bristling with javelin-like crossbow bolts. For Little Zhe, these javelins were like a prison, trapping him on the open ground. His range of movement had already become very small. Just as he was despairing, a group of panicked horses stampeded out from the trading company, their tails on fire, racing madly toward the open ground. There weren’t many horses—just eleven or twelve—but they were enough for Little Zhe to escape the dangerous area. The galloping horses continuously wailed as they fell to the ground, their four hooves thrashing and raising clouds of dust.

The smile disappeared from Di Renjie’s face. After all those horses had fallen to the ground and the dust had settled, the Four Seas Trading Company manager on the open ground had vanished without a trace.

The rest had nothing to do with Di Renjie. Zhangsun Chong’s three thousand troops were lying in ambush here. If they still couldn’t catch the criminal, that would be his problem. He had originally just come to deliver a message. Launching the attack was simply because he was bored. A steady stream of ships would transport building materials from Bazhou. Three months ago, kilns there had already started firing cement. The brick kilns were naturally monopolized by the brick and stone merchants’ guild in the capital. The dock that Guan Tinglong had dug long ago was meant for these fleets to berth.

Di Renjie stretched lazily, wanting to get down from the carriage, but thinking of that terrifying manager, he abandoned this idea. His master had said that this fellow had two eagles that could fly!

The people of Yuezhou watched in terror as large squadrons of armored soldiers conducted exhaustive mountain searches throughout Yuezhou. Horse teams galloped along all the small roads. Whenever smoke columns appeared in the sky, everyone would converge toward them.

Anyone who wasn’t a Yuezhou farmer, without a village headman or county office guarantor, was all brought back to the military camp by the furious Zhangsun Chong. This time, the Emperor’s order he received was: better to wrongly kill a hundred than let one escape.

This wasn’t an order a benevolent monarch should issue. After asking his father, Zhangsun Chong decided to strictly follow this irregular imperial decree. Obviously, this decree had no follow-up document from the Palace Attendants, which meant it hadn’t gone through the Central Secretariat. Fang Xuanling, Du Ruhui, and Wei Zheng didn’t know of this imperial edict’s existence.

In front of that grim-faced eunuch, Zhangsun Chong burned the decree. Without a word, he led his army to encircle Cuiwei Town. If Guan Tinglong hadn’t threatened to die rather than comply, he wouldn’t have planned to let any unfamiliar person in Cuiwei Town live.

“Military lord, I’m a merchant from Chuzhou. I came to Cuiwei Town to do business. I’m not a traitor, I’m not a traitor!” Hearing the merchants’ cries to heaven and earth, Zhangsun Chong’s expression was cold. Guan Tinglong lowered his head, unable to bear listening. That injured ringleader still hadn’t been caught, which pushed Zhangsun Chong’s fury to its peak.

Swords had been found in their luggage, yet they still claimed innocence. Although merchants who frequently traveled often carried swords, Zhangsun Chong didn’t see it that way. Anyone who violated prohibitions who didn’t confess truthfully would find death inescapable.

The search operation continued for ten full days. Aside from some Four Seas Trading Company clerks and managers, not a single other person was found. The vast Dongting Lake, with its dense network of waterways and rivers—with just a small boat, one could disappear into the endless expanse of blue waves.

Those clerks and managers were all thrown into prison cages and taken all the way back to Chang’an by that eunuch. Zhangsun Chong had wasted an excellent opportunity and been berated by a eunuch, which really made him lose face. Moreover, Di Renjie sat right beside him. Though he couldn’t see his face, from his constantly twitching shoulders he knew how happily this fellow was laughing.

Because Zhangsun Chong had been impeached by the censors, he had to return to the capital for an imperial audience. Di Renjie stuck close to Zhangsun Chong’s side. He had just killed several of those people—at this time, he needed a shield in front. Perhaps they hated Zhangsun Chong even more. As a small shrimp, having this fat pig Zhangsun Chong blocking the way in front would definitely be very safe.

Standing on Yuejun Tower always gave one a feeling of leaving home and country. Zhangsun Chong’s fury, however, was rising. Among those he had executed, there must have been an important figure from the enemy, because a ghost-faced corpse nailed to a large wooden plank floated downstream, appearing punctually before his large ship. The deceased was one of his subordinates. The entire face had been carved with a knife into a grotesque smile, and on the chest were deeply carved ten characters: “Fortune and misfortune have no gate, people bring them upon themselves.” Seeing this companion’s corpse, a soldier who knew him became furious and reached out to restore his brother’s face. Di Renjie, who had just entered the door, first reacted by hiding under the table when he saw this scene. Zhangsun Chong was no slouch either—with a great somersault, he leaped out of Yuejun Tower. There came a sound of mechanisms triggering, and countless blue-gleaming poisoned needles shot in all directions from the corpse. The leading soldier was pierced all over his body and face with steel needles. With a scream, he fell to the ground, his body continuously convulsing.

Only then did Di Renjie rush out. Seeing the needle-struck soldier, he unhesitatingly took out his knife and in one stroke sliced off the needles along with flesh. Zhangsun Chong, who had returned to the tower, did the same. Before long, the smell of blood pervaded Yuejun Tower.

The soldier who had been struck with the most needles had already turned into a black person, his body rigid as stone. Zhangsun Chong removed his cloak and covered his subordinate’s corpse with it, saying nothing.

After a long while, he turned back to Di Renjie and said, “Little Jie, you need to rely on your own strength to go back now. Being with Uncle clearly makes you more dangerous. I’ve prepared a squad of soldiers for you. Take the fastest ship and leave. Uncle wants to see just how formidable these scoundrels are.”

“No way. Master said you have to stay with me, otherwise you’re dead for sure. You don’t think my master would throw his founding senior disciple outside and leave him unattended, do you? You’re a military commander—dealing with these ghostly tricks isn’t your forte. But some people are very familiar with them; they’ve spent their whole lives doing these things. We’ll just take that boat.”

Zhangsun Chong looked at an inconspicuous small boat below the tower, then at the elderly fisherman on it. Just as he was frowning and about to speak, he immediately shut his mouth. A refined farm boy walked out from the cabin, helped the old fisherman sit on the deck, and knelt beside him to brew tea.

Zhangsun Chong’s return journey was extremely bizarre. He seemed to have forgotten that enemies still surrounded him. He sat leisurely on that small boat as the large fleet weighed anchor and returned to the capital. His guards sat on another large ship, following closely behind.

Every night, screams came from the large ship. Guards always met with misfortune. One of them died most miserably—his entire head had been torn apart by a beast’s claws. He died silently and without sound…